


Engagement of a Peculiar Kind

by Darkmagyk



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, Alternate Universe - Regency, Canon Compliant if Canon was set in Regency England, Engagement, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkmagyk/pseuds/Darkmagyk
Summary: With much regret, society and her step-mother must face that fact that at eight and twenty years old, Miss Annabeth Chase, despite her beauty and accomplishments, is headed for spinsterhood.But when a once poor Naval Captain of questionable family background but new wealth arrives, her situation might change.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Frederick Chase, Annabeth Chase & Mrs. Chase, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 270
Collections: Historic Demigod AUs





	1. Chapter 1

“Another one?” Mrs. Chase asked, nearly collapsing into her chair. Her daughter, of a kind, merely shrugged, as though rejecting a perfectly respectable gentleman was of no consequence. “You are not getting any younger.” 

Miss Chase was indeed not getting any younger. In July she had passed eight and twenty. And Mrs. Chase was really quiet beside herself, at this point. 

“Now now,” said Mr. Chase, not looking up from his book.

“I know,” The near spinster agreed, not looking up from her carefully studied needle work. Like father, like daughter, Mrs. Chase supposed, “isn’t it wonderful.” 

“Darling,” Mrs. Chase tried again, “It's been quite some time since your last proposal.” That her advanced age was the cause of such a thing was not said. But it was the truth. She was well and truly on the shelf at this point. Had the girl been plainer or poorer, Mrs. Chase would have lost even the slightest bit of hope, but as the call today showed, Miss Chase still had many charms to recommend her. 

If only they could have a true, frank conversation about these things. But they could not.Not with her own sons and her husband joining them. Mr. Chase in particular was very protective of his daughter, though the girl herself had not always known or seen it, even when Mrs. Chase had found much in her lacking.

He did not always trust his wife in the matters of the child they did not share in common. 

Mrs. Chase _had_ come to love her husband’s natural daughter. 

It had not always been so. She was a respectable lady when she’d met The Honorable Mr. Frederick Chase, and though his brother was an Earl, he was merely a scholar living on an allowance with a very young natural daughter who he sometimes doted on and sometimes seemed almost scared of. 

Oh, in society the little girl was said to be the daughter of his first wife, who he’d met while studying on the continent and who’d died before he’d come home, but when their engagement was set in stone he’d confessed the truth to her. Or a bit of it. 

He’d not married the child’s mother. Had not even known of her existence until it was much too late. 

She’d married him anyway, which is when she’d gotten the rest of the story. 

About gods and monsters, a love affair involving very little love and a little girl who failed to be anything like a young lady. 

She had tried so hard, and failed so much with the girl. She had been almost relieved when the child had disappeared, and had been fully satisfied the girl had written to them about her new school where other children like her lived. Demigods, she said, half-bloods. Like Helen or Hercules. 

Mr. Chase had not been so content, but even he had to admit that the decreased amount of monsters was a relief. But he wrote to her often, and begged some more, and eventually she condensed to visit them. To go between camp and their house. 

Those monsters still came. The ones that Mr. Chase could see and Miss Chase had to fight despite being a gentleman’s daughter. But despite her manners being rough, Miss Chase proved to be an accomplished if uneven young lady. 

That was when Mrs. Chase realized her own affections had grown so strong. Her step daughter refused a debut at fifteen, and cited a great war among her the gods she existed among. 

She refused again at sixteen, and the next year, spent an entire Summer running off not just to the Continent, but to Italy of all places. 

And Mrs. Chase spent all that time not worried about the impropriety of it all, but absolutely sick with worry about the danger she was in. What she might be getting up to, not because of her or the family's reputations, but because she couldn’t bear it for her to die. 

Not even for poor Mr. Chase’s sake, who spent all three of those years locked up in his library, praying blasphemy, but for herself. 

When Miss Annabeth Chase had returned from Greece and her strange school, Mrs. Chase hadn’t even been able to properly applaud the fact that she had finally acquiesced to having a season the next year. She was too happy to have her home and safe. 

Miss Chase had not taken to society as readily as Mrs. Chase had dreamed, but it wasn’t completely hopeless. 

She had made no effort to hide her intellect or interests, but her reputation as a bluestocking was offset by her father having set aside a not insufficient sum for her. By her Uncle’s title, and his widowhood making it as good as her father’s. And by her, Mrs. Chase had to admit, practically divine beauty. 

She’d been very popular her first season, though she was almost eighteen. And there had only been a few rumors about her mother and her birth. 

Mrs. Chase had been pleased with how it ended. Annabeth had received no less than five inquiries. Though between her and her father, all of them had been turned down. 

That had been nearly ten years ago. 

And Mrs. Chase was about at the end of her rope. 

She looked over the mail of the day, as she always did. 

She had wondered, from time to time, if Annabeth had a secret beau, some sort of clandestine engagement she didn’t want to share. 

The girl had expressed an intention to marry before, even as she turned down every gentleman who made an offer, and she got a look in her eye sometimes, when Mrs. Chase described an eligible young man, like she was thinking of an entirely different young man who had caught her eye. 

And yet she’d never had any letters that weren’t respectable. She heard from her American friends: Miss McLean and Mrs. Zhang. She heard from the illustrious Lady Rachel Dare. She heard from Mrs. Rodriguez who was always abroad with her husband. She heard from Miss Alejandra Ferro. She heard from various school friends with more infrequency. 

But as an unmarried woman, she received no word from any men who would be unseemly. 

Out and about, she still had many admirers. But the only bachelor she was on truly intimate terms with seemed to be Mr. di Angelo, and when Mrs. Chase had asked about any kind of affection there, Annabeth had burst out laughing. 

When she went to stay with Colonel and Mrs. Zhang, Mrs. Chase heard no stories of clandestine meetings or strange callers. 

Mr. Valdez always brought his wife along for visits. 

Lady Rachel was constantly accompanied by perhaps the shrewish chaperone in all of England. 

Mr. di Angelo’s doctor friend, Solace, had once made Annabeth an offer, but now the lot of them seemed to regard it as some great joke. 

There is magic in her step-daughter, and she’s the cleverest lady Mrs. Chase has ever known, so perhaps she has some secret means of communicating with a lover. Or perhaps her love is beyond simple human understanding,

But even that seemed far fetched. Because surely, after so long, a match would have been made, or she would have at least revealed her intentions to her beloved mother. 

No intentions were revealed. At eight and twenty she turned down gentlemen after gentlemen. 

Good prospects, too. Not quite what had been offered to her five years past, no one with a title had made her any kind of offer since she was one and twenty, but still, good incomes and good families.

Mr. Chase was more than happy to leave her to her weaving and her reading. Sometimes she even joined him in his library, talking over battle and war like she knew them from the inside out. 

He’d given his consent to several men who’d asked him first, but he never seemed to mind when Annabeth turned them down. 

But Mrs. Chase worried. With his brother widowed, and his nieces dead, Mr. Chase was the Earl’s only heir, and that estate was not such that it couldn’t support one spinster sister and one younger son in addition to Bobby’s family and a widow. But she didn’t like it. 

And she knew Annabeth wanted marriage and children. She’d admitted it freely, dreamily, with such a romantic heart, it had been a surprise to her step-mother. 

And now, an old maid, she smiled at the man she’d sent away. 

“Annabeth,” She tried again, she had something that would probably scare the woman enough to at least get her thinking about the reality of her status, “I was speaking with Mrs. Harlow, she was hoping you could be a chaperon to her daughters at the ball next week.”

Mrs. Chase saw Annabeth frown, just a little bit, and look up at her step mother. Mrs. Chase didn’t want to upset her, not really. Mr. Chase didn’t want any frank conversations about Annabeth’s marriage prospects, so Mrs. Chase was reduced to implications and examples. But it was the truth, she was drifting that way, a chaperon and not the belle of the balls.

“I had forgotten about that ball,” Annabeth said, instead of commenting on the needs of Miss Harlow. “I need to make sure my new dress is ready.”

She looked out the window, but Mrs. Chase thought she was looking much farther away. “I can certainly try to look after Miss Harlow and Miss Jane, but it's supposed to be quite an event. I have other social engagements I wished to partake in.” 

“If Mrs. Harlow,” Mr. Chase said, looking up from his book for the first time in a while, “Is concerned, she should find a maiden aunt to watch her daughters. Annabeth can have her fun.” 

“I have a few years, yet, before I can be a proper maiden aunt,” Annabeth said, she glanced at Bobby and Matthew, playing chess, “Unless you have something to share.” 

Their pause worried Mrs. Chase. 

“Well,” Matthew offered, “Mrs. Harlow might have reason to worry, I heard some Navy men have been invited to the ball. They’re like pirates, they’ve won money through taking ships. And you know what they say about sailors.”

His brother snickered, and then Annabeth laughed. Mr. Chase was no longer paying attention.

“Officers of His Majesty's Navy,” Mrs. Chase corrected, “are not pirates.”

“I simply must know, dear brother” Said Annabeth, her eyes could look dangerous, but right now the glint in the grey did not look like she was going to fight a monster and stain her petticoats, it looked like she was going to endeavor to give her poor step-mother more grey hair. “What they say about sailors?” 

Mrs. Chase found she had other things to do, elsewhere in the house. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you'll notice that in listing out some titles, the name is left blank and listed as, for example The Earl of --. If you aren't familiar, that was a Regency convention for dealing with titles and other important names in fiction (in Pride and Prejudice, Wickham's second regiment is referred to as General ——’s regiment).
> 
> So I'm being historically accurate, and not just too lazy to try and come up with names.

“Captain Jackson,” Said her hostess, “Please allow me to introduce Miss Annabeth Chase. She’s the daughter of The Honorable Mr. Frederick Chase, and the niece of The Earl of --, of course.”

She greeted the officer. He was dressed in a blue suit the same color of his navel uniform and his sea green eyes held her’s for a long moment.

“Captain,” Annabeth said. She looked over his shoulder. A gaggle of young ladies were all standing behind him, just waiting to be introduced.

No one shot Annabeth any glares that were too hostile. They hated that she was taking up his time, certainly, but she was no threat.

She was a spinster, at this point, and Perseus Jackson was a naval officer who’d just received his fortune in prize money. Captain Jackson had a Marriage Mart to choose from this season. Annabeth Chase was just a small annoyance in his way.

“I have the pleasure of already being acquainted with Miss Chase,” Captain Jackson said, “We have several friends in common.”

Their hostess looked to Annabeth who agreed, “Colonel and Mrs. Zhang, Lady Rachel.” She nodded her head across the room, where Lady Rachel and Mrs. Zhang were speaking together over a new painting. Mrs. Zhang’s neck glittered with stones cursed for everyone but her. Lady Rachel’s white gloves were bright and new, and there were already ink stains on the tips of the fingers. Annabeth hadn’t been able to speak with them more than in passing tonight.

“Well, Captain Jackson has just returned to London.”

“Yes,” Annabeth agreed, “You’re the talk of the town.”

Mostly, the talk was about what his prize money amounted to. He wasn’t the youngest Captain, he’d not had the connections to properly propel his career the way many young men did, but his skill as a Naval Captain was apparently indisputable, and he had already managed some sort of record for most captured ships in his relatively short time as a captain.

Some people speculated that he was sitting on upwards of seventy-five thousand pounds.

Barely anyone was even commenting on the potential circumstances of his birth and the questionable existence of a Mr. Jackson before his mother's marriage to Mr. Ugliano. Instead they wished to speak about if he would purchase an estate, or even a baronetcy and who would be mistress of it.

“I assure you, Miss Chase, I remain as uninteresting as ever.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. “Does anyone have your next dance?”

“Not at present.” She said.

“Then I’ll request it,” He said, “And ask that you save at least one other set for me.”

She left him to the mercy of the young ladies begging for his introduction after agreeing, and went to join Rachel and Hazel.

“Poor Per- Poor Captain Jackson,” Hazel said, looking over at where he was being hounded, “He looks like he’s surrounded by hungry sharks.”

“He likes sharks,” Annabeth reminded her.

“He looks like he’s surrounded by empousai,” Rachel said, “That little one does look a bit like Miss Kelli.”

Annabeth had seen Kelli the Empousai in the Labyrinth and in Tartarus, and didn’t think Miss Harlow particularly favored her, but she laughed anyway. She was prone to that sort of unkindness, sometimes.

A few people around them turned to stare. They were quiet a trio: the Black American wife of a Chinese merchant covered in jewels that could put many a duchess to shame, the bluestocking spinster, and Lady Rachel, who’s family’s eminence wealth and position was almost not enough to overcome her efforts to completely lack in respectability.

Annabeth envied Rachel’s boldness in that way. But then Annabeth remembered being the natural daughter of a scholar, mostly cut off from his family. She remembered finding home at camp, and then having to return to the real world. To a society that expected all these things from her that she barely had the energy to give.

Rachel was rich, she was titled, and she never had to fear what might happen if the truth of her birth came out.

“Your dress is lovely by the way.” Rachel said, “You didn’t tell me, did you make it yourself?”

“Yes,” She said, “All the fabric too.”

Rachel shared a smirk with Hazel. “It is a wonderful color.”

Annabeth looked down, it was perhaps a little unfashionably orange. But it was near as she could get to the uniforms she’s worn as a child.

“I just thought-”

“Oh, you always favor grey because of your eyes,” Rachel said, “and I was expecting blue, perhaps, for tonight, but this is very different and very exciting. Very nostalgic. Everyone who knew you in your youth will surely feel the same.”

Hazel giggled behind her gloved hand.

“You can just say it,” Annabeth said.

“No,” Rachel shook her head, “Not yet.” She then burst into another round of laughter, and Annabeth turned to see Captain Jackson approaching her.

“Lady Rachel, Mrs. Zhang,” He said, a smile on his mouth, “I hate to deprive you of her company, but Miss Chase owes me a dance.”

He offered his hand.

“Take her for as long as you’d like,” Rachel offered. Hazel bloomed red, but didn’t stop laughing.

“I hate you,” Annabeth told Rachel as she was led away.

He was a good enough dancer and so was she. Neither of them had much inclination for the artistry of it all, but they’d learned how to move and use their bodies properly around each other so they made good partners. When the dance was properly underway, he spoke.

“I can’t believe you left me to the mercy of all those girls. What happened to together.”

Her lips pursed. “You’re the one who ran off to sea.” She reminded him.

“We discussed it all, you agreed-”

“Yes, yes,” She cut in, “I agreed, I still agreed it had to be done. But don’t blame me for that. We must all play our parts.”

“And my part is being fawned over by a gaggle of very silly, very young ladies?”

“Yes,” Annabeth told him “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”

The dance took them apart from each other then, and she made small talk with a younger son who looked like he’d maybe never been to a ball before. She’d always preferred to leave men speechless with her intellect or her dagger, but failing that, there was something fun in doing the same with her social graces.

When she returned to her chosen partner, her smile was just a little cruel. “You are in possession of a good fortune, if rumor is to be believed.”

He frowned at her, “Because you know nothing beyond rumor.” But then his tone turned playful, “I am in possession of a good fortune, a very good one, in fact. And I am in desperate want of a wife. But I certainly am not a single man. And it is important that you, at least, know that.”

The orange dress might have been a bad idea, because she could feel her cheeks go dangerously red. It was all very unbecoming.

He left her mostly speechless through the second dance. They parted with a reminder that he had been promised a second set.

Mrs. Chase, Mrs. Harlow, and every young lady she’d ever been introduced to seemed to be waiting for her opinion of him, who he’d asked her about, who his eyes had wondered over while they were spinning about.

Annabeth had never wanted to be a threat in the competitive world of matchmaking. She'd not entered society to find a husband. She’d always been content to be a threat in the combat arena and during chariot races, but right now she felt like removing the bronze knife hidden in her dress.

She glanced back at where Captain Jackson was talking to some young lady in her first season and wanted to do something spiteful and large. To gain his attention and keep it on her. If only a monster were to attack. That would bring about all his attention. And she knew she could handle any monster. But she was old now. The monster attacks had faded with age.

Normally she reveled in her own survival, but surrounded by girls of seventeen and eighteen, she felt as old as Olympus.

Mrs. Chase was looking just as expectantly at her as the rest of them.

She settled on merely saying something she knew would cause a stir. Mind games and politics could be as important as soldiers in winning a war.

“He didn’t name anyone in particular.” She said, “But he did admit to being in want of a wife.”

She giggled to herself as she walked off with Mrs. Chase.

“Did he really say that?” Her step mother asked, familiar enough with Annabeth’s particular brand of society warfare.

“He really said that,” She assured her second mother. “And there's no lack of wanting women here.”

He was talking to Rachel now. Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, though a quick glance around found the Duke of --, who clearly remembered Rachel’s youthful attachment, and did not think the naval officer with no family connections was a good match for his daughter, despite his new found wealth or Rachel’s constantly advancing age.

“Lady Rachel would certainly be a way up in the world.” Mrs. Chase said.

“Her father isn’t having it,” Annabeth said.

Mrs. Chase nodded, “And she’s eight and twenty, young men are often more concerned about those sorts of things then even titles.”

Annabeth didn’t respond, and after several long moments, Mrs. Chase turned to her. “Are you suddenly going to be worried about such matters?”

“No ma’am,” Annabeth said, because she wasn’t worried, not really. But she’d never felt so old as she did at that moment. “It doesn’t much matter, Lady Rachel means to never marry.”

Her step mother sighed, “I suppose you and your friend are lucky, to have the means for such a choice.”

It was a hard comment to argue with, really. Annabeth had spent all those years waiting, and knowing if something terrible happened, she had her father and brothers to fall back on. Rachel was her father’s heir. Many ladies had no such hope.

But she wanted something else. Something that was guiding Lady Rachel to the dance floor as they spoke.

Her step mother seemed to not know what to make of her, “He’s handsome, to be sure. But there are stories about his father.” She offered, it was meant to be sweet, a consolation in the face of a gentleman’s indifference.

“There are stories about my mother,” Annabeth said, before Mrs. Chase could begin to decipher her words, Annabeth made to leave, “I see a friend, I simply must say hello.”

She found Nico di Angelo, standing in a corner, and joined him for a drink of too much wine. She’d gotten intoxicated for the first time as a child, on wine provided by a child of Dionysus. Such feelings sounded wonderful right now.

She glanced around the room, often the gods would leave their mountain for a party such as this. Annabeth had never been to any kind of important party without at least a few gods mingling around. She spotted a few she recognized and a few more she suspected, but no signs of Dionysus, so there was to be no increased revelry. She wasn’t Roman enough to want a Bacchanalia, but she couldn’t pretend it might be a distraction.

“Has he made his offer, yet?” Nico asked, while she surveyed the room again for any god she would actually want to talk to.

She bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue, one asking if Will had done the same to him. She took a great many liberties in her friendship with Nico, but that was not one she could take in public, even if they were secluded.

She merely took a drink and ignored him.

Rachel’s dance had ended and she’d joined Hazel, who was speaking to Will and Frank.

The good captain had attempted to join the conversation, and instead been pulled away by some baron’s daughter for a dance.

Hazel and Frank had the decency to look like they felt bad for him. Rachel and Will were laughing outright.

Nico caught Will’s eye from across the room, a well practiced move, and the four of them shared a laugh at a distance.

After the dance was done, Captain Jackson extracted himself, and marched forward, like he was leading a line into battle.

“Miss Chase,” He said, he said, slightly out of breath and very out of patience, “I believe you promised me a second dance.”

Annabeth smiled, “I suppose I did.” She agreed

“Captain,” Nico offered from her side, not waiting for a proper introduction that was completely unnecessary, “I must advise you to avoid this old spinster. There is a Viscount's daughter over there who looks as though she’d love a dance.”

Both of them turned to follow his gaze and there was indeed a young woman, fifteen or sixteen, walking with a slight stumble, and with her gaze locked on Perseus Jackson.

“Is she alright?” Captain Jackson asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “She looks unwell.”

“I say she’s a Viscount’s daughter,” Nico offered, “but I should really say she’s a viscountess’s daughter, and a daughter of Dionysus. A true life of the party. She wouldn’t stop talking about you last time I was at camp.”

“If that’s what’s waiting for me at Camp, perhaps I’ll hold off a bit longer on a visit.”

“I don’t know,” Annabeth said, half teasing and half test, “She’s very pretty,”

“She’s very young,” Captain Jackson corrected, “And fifteen, gods, she’s a monster magnet, it's a wonder there hasn’t been an attack yet.”

“You could do worse,” Nico said again. Captain Jackson gave him a bemused look, trying to figure him out, like he had been doing for most of their fifteen year acquaintance.

“He’s trying to get you out of the way,” Annabeth said, “So I’ll be forced to accept Dr. Solace’s proposal, and then Mr. di Angelo here would have unimpeded access to my twenty thousand pounds.”

“I thought it was Fifteen,” Nico said.

“With consideration to my advanced age, Mrs. Chase persuaded my father to add something to it.” Annabeth said.

“You know, Miss Chase,” Nico started, reaching out for her hands “I have long admired your-”

“Oh, she’s your type, then?” Captain Jackson cut in.

Annabeth laughed and Nico agreed that he had a stated preference for fair hair.

“The dance is about to start,” Captain Jackson repeated. And Annabeth acquiesced to the dance floor with him once again.

She noticed that the second set of dances was most assuredly marked by a room full of young ladies and their mothers, so afterwards she made sure she danced with Dr. Solace, Colonel Zhang, a blond man who was introduced to her as Mr. Lester and who’s disguise did not fool her at all, and an older gentleman, who’s name she immediately worked to forget, who clearly did not appreciate the honor of dancing with a daughter of Athena, but assured her she was quite beautiful for her age, and seemed to know the great honor of her dowry. So no one would think she was only dancing with Captain Jackson, so no one would think she had particular designs. It was much too early in the season to deal with that sort of gossip and maneuvering.

She joined Hazel, Rachel, Frank, Nico, and Will when she was done with dancing, and when Captain Jackson came back to beg another dance, she sent him off with Hazel, so as to prevent an uproar if the Captain was seen dancing with the same spinster three times in a night.

Such a declaration would have been nearly a scandal, she thought. There would be lots of talk and lots of questions. It would not do for them to seem to have an understanding in place. She did not dance with him again.

So he danced with Rachel again after Hazel, and then with Meg, who had joined them mostly because Will’s father wished to speak to him. Then he allowed himself to be dragged out to the floor by a merry Hebe, if only to avoid the attention of one of Rachel’s over eager cousins.

The goddess was the embodiment of youthful beauty, and so her aura managed to scare away some of the hopefuls for the rest of the night. This pleased both Miss Chase and Captain Jackson.

On the carriage home, Annabeth learned that that Matthew had met the young heiress, a Scottish Countess named Lady Aeithales and her Guardian, the Mr. Lester Annabeth had danced with and then heard recite bad poetry with Dr. Solace, and that Bobby had met a lady named Miss Freya who’s beauty he would not stop waxing about. Mrs. Chase was so preoccupied with the first, and Mr. Chase with the second, that no one bothered to ask her why Captain Jackson had wanted to dance with her twice.


	3. Chapter 3

It was very late when they arrived home. She wished her family goodnight and waved off her maid. She could get undressed by herself, even after such an event, and she changed into a nightdress and took down her hair, though she also laced up her boots.

She waited until she heard everyone else in the house settle, and then she retrieved the first gift her mother had ever given her. It was an ugly bonnet, but she’d never have to be seen in anything so unfashionable, because when she put it on, she became invisible.

She left the house through a door in the kitchen. It was not a short walk to Mr. and Mrs. Blofis’s house, but she felt so giddy through all of it, she might have been one of those fifteen year olds out tonight at her first ball. 

Annabeth had many years of climbing wall experience, and she tried to stay at least something like in practice, so she was able to scale the building without too much trouble. 

A candle was still lit inside, and she could see Captain Jackson, very much dressed down, but awake, inside.

She tapped on the glass, and he started, looking at the empty window, before realizing what happened. 

He opened the window for her, waiting until she’d given verbal confirmation that she was inside before he closed it behind her and drew the sash. 

Only when the window was closed did she take her bonnet off, making herself visible once more. 

Percy did not wait for her to say anything. As soon as he could see her, he had her in a tight embrace. He kissed down her neck and then up again. Finally, he reached her lips. 

She could feel every bit of him through his thin nightclothes, and knew he could feel her as well. She sunk into the warmth of his arms. 

“It was so late,” He admitted, when they could finally bear for their lips to be apart, “I was worried you had decided not to come.” 

“I had to spend an entire evening watching every girl in the country fall all over herself for you,” Annabeth said, though she couldn’t really blame them. Percy was handsome, rich, the greatest hero of this age, and he was truly kind. She was sure there was no better man in all of Europe, and she could not imagine one in all of the world, “There was never a chance I was not coming.” 

“Why would I want every girl in the country,” He asked, “When I have you.” 

It was things like that, that always caused her heart to skip a beat and her breath to catch where Percy was concerned. He truly did think she was worth not just any girl in England, but all of them together. Here she was, twenty-eight, lacking in her virtue, and still he loved her above all else. He’d fallen into hell for her, once, but even so many years later, it seemed hard to believe. Her own feelings were so profound, that they were matched measure for measure seemed more fanciful than any act of gods or magic she had seen.

Without breaking their embrace, he led them to sit on his bed. 

The night, the dancing and the wine and her walk, wanted to catch up with her. And she wanted nothing more than to curl up with Percy on this bed and sleep. 

“I’ve missed you,” He said into her hair.

She fought against a sob. It was late and she didn’t want to wake up the household. That kind of scandal would only make things more complicated. 

“I’ve missed you too.” 

It had been years since they’d been together, face to face, able to touch and hold and kiss. Three years, at Frank and Hazel’s, right before Percy had become a Captain and received his own ship. 

Between Iris Messages and Leo’s magic scrolls, they spoke nearly every day, Percy could recount all the petty complaints and gossips of her domestic life, and she knew all the dangers and petty gossips on his ship. It was not as bad as it could have been. But she felt his absence keenly, and so his return was even more cherished. 

They had known, when he became a midshipman, that his conduct in His Majesty's Navy would win him his fortune. He could have run the ship himself, and taken out the enemies with one hand. He had been leading great battles since he was little more than a boy. Still, the time apart had been hard. 

But he simply could not have settled a wife when he was seventeen and just barely more than penniless. Mr. and Mrs. Blofis could not have supported him with any kind of allowance, and Annabeth hadn’t been sure her father would give his consent and her dowry. 

She’d hated it then and hated it now. 

But everything was different today. 

“At what point do you think the exact amount of your prize money will become public knowledge?” She asked. 

“I had forgotten it was all still speculation,” He groaned, “It is going to get worse, isn't it.” 

“One hundred and fifty thousand pounds? Yes, my love, it is going to get worse. Why, even the Duke of -- might finally see you as a proper match for his Lady Rachel.” 

“I am far more concerned,” He said, “With the feelings of The Honorable Mr. Frederick Chase.” He said, “Is tomorrow too soon to go and speak to him?”

She frowned. 

“You have your thinking frown on.” He said. 

“I don’t have a thinking frown.”

“You most certainly do,” He said, but he smiled and kissed her forehead, like he didn’t want to disturb it. 

“I just- I don’t want to rush.”

He pulled back, so there were almost six inches between them, “It has been twelve years.” He reminded her. And she could feel every year, every month, every day. 

“I don’t mean that, we _are_ engaged.” She said it with the same firmness Piper might say something, speaking it into existence. Nico had asked if Percy had made her an offer yet. And the answer was yes. He had made a full offer, on one knee and with a coral pendant from his father’s palace. Miss Annabeth Chase and Captain Percy Jackson were engaged. “But it is so early in the season, and you’re the most eligible new bachelor currently on the market. What will people say if you’re engaged to a spinster after your very first ball? What will you say when people ask?”

“I assume people will say something like: Miss Chase is the most beautiful woman, barring any goddesses, of course,” he rolled his eyes as he said it, “in all of England, and the most intelligent one to boot and Percy is a lucky sailor to be marrying her. And if anyone asks me, I figure I can say something like: well, she’s saved my life more times than I could begin to count, she once kept me tethered to my humanity.” her hand drifted to his lower back, and rested there, thinking of the way he’s been endangered once and the curse he had just barely escaped. “But really, I see no reason that our prior attachment should be a secret.”

Annabeth hadn’t really considered that.

“We have friends and acquaintances in common. I see no reason to keep it a secret that I’ve admired you as long as I’ve known you, but needed to be advanced enough in my career to properly take a wife. It will certainly be a bit unconventional. But since when do you care about such a thing? Your entire life has been about unconventionality.”

She looked down then, and buried her face in his chest. He held her close and kissed her hair, and waited until she looked up again to ask anything. 

“We’ll never be properly acceptable,” he said, “The sting of bastardy will always cling a little. I’ll be too uncouth and you’ll be too much of a bluestocking, and I don’t know if we’ll ever have enough money to make the weapons, the scars, my tattoo, what not well and truly respectable, and I know I’ll never have the family name to do it.”

“I know that.”

He looked apologetic “It isn’t fair to you,” he probably didn’t even see how unfair it was to him as well, “you deserve to be known and praised as the most accomplished women in Europe. But you’ll have to settle for the smartest and the most beautiful. And we might be known for our slight air of vulgarity.”

“I do like being vulgar with you,” She said, and kissed him again, for a long time. “But I- I don’t want my father-”

She didn’t know how to explain it, exactly. She’d run away at seven because she’d felt so cast aside and unloved. And her father had spent the past twenty years making up for it. She didn’t want to let him down now, with a shocking engagement. 

If she had to choose between Percy and her father, the choice would be Percy every time. It would not be close and it would not be hard.

It wasn’t like when they were seventeen. Then, if they’d been denied her dowry, they’d have been worse than destitute. Now it wouldn’t even matter. She knew Mr. Blofis had been left a not insufficient sum by a former pupil, and Mrs. Blofis’s clandestine literary career had borne fruit. Even if they didn’t have Percy’s truly astonishing amount of prize money. 

Her father’s disapproval and objections wouldn’t even be enough to hurt them socially. Any complaint about Percy’s parentage would be hypocritical. And his other potential objections fanciful. 

But still. She didn’t want her father to not understand and not approve. She didn’t want him to look at her and the man she loved and not really see them. 

She didn’t want his love to be so conditional. She didn’t want to know that he so thoroughly failed to understand her after all this time. 

She wanted to do this right, to present no potential objections from her family. Her mortal family, at least. 

What Athena and Poseidon might think of their marriage was a different worry and complaint. 

“You need to call, I think, before you ask for my hand,” Annabeth said. “Perhaps we don’t have to wait out the whole season, but-” She rested her head on his shoulder and reached out a hand to trace the dark lines of his legion tattoo. He had a sailor’s anchor on his hip bone in blue ink that was already starting to fade, but the trident and the SPQR still declared him a son of the Olympus. “I don’t want anyone questioning us. And Papa, he tries too hard to be supportive, I don’t want this to be the first time I have to face his disapproval.” 

Percy nodded, “Alright, I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot with him either. I did destroy his carriage the last time we met.” He was clearly disappointed, but he smiled anyway. “And time isn’t bad, I suppose. You’ll be able to pick us out a house and such. I assume you have a list of estates all around the country that you can’t wait to get your hands on and rebuild from the ground up, like you did with Olympus.” 

She blushed bright red, because in all the late nights they’d spent talking, all the sketches and designs she’d shown him over Iris Message, not once had she told him that she did have just such a list, that she kept an ear out for estates for sale were they could make their home and perhaps another fortune. She’d dreamed of the home and house and family she and Percy would build together, and the buildings she would build herself. 

He just laughed, and didn’t need her answer. “You’ll have to tell me all about them. I have a solicitor now, because apparently that’s something rich men need, and I can start making those sorts of inquiries. Right away.” 

“That sounds-” She yawned, “that sounds nice.”

“You’re tired.” He said, he looked at his bed. “I’m tired too.” 

“I can’t stay.” She told him. “What would your mother say?”

“That it is a very long time coming, and that she’s very pleased.” He said with a grin. “You certainly could have come through the front door, you can next time.” 

“I am trying to not cause a scandal.” She reminded him. 

“Maybe I want a scandal so I’ll have to marry you quicker,” He said, but still, he stood up and offered her his hand so she could stand as well. He put on his powdering gown and then just stood there, holding her close.

“I don’t want you to leave,” He said, “I want-” But he didn’t finish it. 

“I know what you want,” She smirked up at him. He used to be shorter than her. He hadn’t been in so long, but sometimes the effect was still a little jarring after over a decade of mostly conducting their relationship through Iris picture messages. “I am too tired tonight. And we got lucky before, but I don’t know if we should push our luck again. Not when we can be so close to a scandal free wedding.” 

“I didn’t mean that,” He said, and then paused, “I mean, I did not just mean that. Though I won’t deny I’ve been dreaming of our sons and daughters for a very long time. Though there's a world of things I could do to you that would carry no such risk.”

“My brothers were talking about all the things sailors can learn in their travels.” Annabeth said. Her lips were inches away from his. She was bone tired, exhausted, but she waited for him to close the distance.

“Well I learned because everyone at camp over shares, and also you make the most informative noise,” She could feel her cheeks redden at that pronouncement. He closed the gab between their mouths again, and she knew she let out one of those noises as his hand traced her belly, through her shift. They broke apart so she could yawn. 

Percy laughed, but his smile was nothing short of delighted “As you said, you are tired. Me too. But I hate being in the same city as you and not being with you. It is one thing if there's an ocean between us. But this seems so easily crossed.” 

“I love you,” Was all she could say. She’d said it to him thousands of times. It will never be enough. She had to go. Not home. Home had been camp and then home had been him, but she had to go back to her father’s house. She had to sleep some, and then she had to come up with a plan of attack so that her father and step-mother would embrace her marriage and Percy. 

At long last she pulled away and pulled on her bonnet. Percy looked at the spot she’d been in, and held out his hand. She grasped it, and hand in hand, he led her through the house, and a little door for servants. 

“I love you,” He whispered as she let go of his hand.

“I love you, too,” She said, as she vanished into the night. 


	4. Chapter 4

Normally the family had breakfast at ten, but it had been a very late night yesterday, and Frederick had eaten alone. 

He was distracted by the thought of Bobby’s object of affection at the ball the night before, Miss Freya. He prayed, though to whom he wasn’t sure, that it was merely a young lady with an unusual name and not old family secrets coming to haunt him again. 

Randolph’s theories before the death of his wife and children, Natalie’s pleas before she’d run off to America, somehow he’d thought all of those things could be escaped if he ran far enough away, into Athena’s arms. 

He did not even remember that he’d had a question for Annabeth until she crossed his path after stealing a bit to eat from the kitchen in the afternoon. It was a welcome distraction from his distraction. Happier thoughts then that the Aesir and Vanir were once again closing in on his family. 

“My dear,” He said, “Please join me in my library.” 

She followed him in without any kind of protest, and went immediately to his maps. He’d known the determined look in her grey eyes first from her mother, who’s studied his models and projections the same way. 

Nearly thirty years later, and he still missed Athena terribly some days. And the fact that he had not always seen his dear Annabeth as the precious gift she was seemed the gravest of insults to both of them. It also made what he wished to speak on painful in its own way. 

So instead he allowed her to waste an hour, talking over battle and armies and war. He’d never seen war. Though the second son of an earl, it was not what he was meant for. His daughter had, though. She was wearing a short sleeved dress today, and he can see the scars that lined her arms. 

He wanted to keep her at home always, wanted to be able to call her into his library and spend hours discussing the great wars of history and what they might look like in the future whenever the fancy struck either of them. 

He could make a case for it. He remembered what Natalie had screamed at Randolph before she’d boarded that ship to Boston. Why such a woman as his daughter would want to maintain her freedom. He could and would support her in any and all of her endeavors. 

But he knew what she wanted and what she deserved. So once they played out the Battle of Bosworth Field, he stopped her from reenacting the entire War of the Roses when she began to set up the Battle of Barnet and she started complaining about how _her brother_ Lord Warwick could have won if only-

“This is lovely, my dear,” He said, “But it wasn’t what I meant to speak with you about.” 

“What did you need, Papa.” She asked, they sat across from each other. 

“I just wanted, well, you know I’m not terribly good at planning things and all that, but I wanted to know when I might expect Captain Jackson.” 

She looked completely caught out by his question. It was not an expression he’d ever seen on Athena’s face, but he knew he'd warn it many times. 

“What?” She finally managed to ask. She was so rarely surprised by anything, he found her demeanor quite endearing. 

“Captain Jackson has returned to London, and the rumors about his prize money are everywhere. It was the most talked about thing at the ball last night.” 

Annabeth nodded in understanding. “Yes,” she agreed, “I heard.” 

“I would love to know what the truth of it is, if you’d be so inclined to share.” Frederick said, “But it doesn’t really matter. When is he going to come and ask for your hand?”

His daughter turned red, but she did not answer. He sighed. 

“I won’t pretend not to understand the romantic appeal of an elopement. But you can have a perfectly fine wedding here as well as Scotland. It will of course have to be at the Parish, but we’ve alway made those little allowances in our family. And think of what it would mean to your step-mother.” 

“You know?” Was all Annabeth asked in return. 

“Of your intent to marry?” He could not help but laugh, “I know I occasionally get distracted, but I like to think you do not see me as so stupid.” 

“Oh, Papa, never-” She said quickly, and seemed to be at a loss about what she had meant. 

“He danced two sets with him last night.” He reminded her. 

She turned redder still, “I remember.” 

“I suppose I should thank you both for your restraint. I know it must have been trying. I woke up every morning after your trip-” He said neither abroad nor tartarus, because she went to both and he liked neither, “expecting to find you had run off in the middle of the night, leaving only a note that you’d gone to Gretna Green with your dear Percy.”

She opened her mouth several times, but seemed to have nothing really to say, only managing “money.” And looking quite embarrassed about it. 

Frederick nodded, “You are both resourceful, but it does please me that you did not have to try to make a living off only your dowry. But I will remind you that even if you see fit to not ask me, I’ll still need to speak to him, or if you prefer, both of you, about the financial matters. We’ll want to draw up the contract and all of that.” 

“That’s-” she tried to speak again, “That’s what you want to talk about?”

“I tried to speak to him last night, but I could find no one to properly introduce us, and he was so busy trying to speak to you and all your demigod friends, and avoid his pursuers. And I wasn’t able to explain to others that we were acquainted because he’d once knocked on my door and told me that my daughter had been kidnapped by evil Titans at the age of only four and ten, now was I.” 

“That would have been a strange thing to say.” Annabeth agreed. Though she looked like she wanted to say something else.”

“I’ll admit I have been expecting him all day.” 

“I told him not to ask about marriage, yet.”

That was very surprising, “Why not? Is the prize money so much lower than has been reported. Even so, with your money, and something of a prize, it can’t be less than another twenty thousand. Forty thousand would be enough to settle you, for now. I have the means to help, and he’s still got his career. You needn't worry about money anymore.”

“I’m not, his prize money is a little over a hundred and fifty thousand,” Annabeth said distractedly, waving her arm about like that wasn’t her greatest concern. 

“Good lord,” Frederick couldn’t help but say. “Then what on earth are you waiting for?”

“I- well- I suppose-” She brought a hand to her face, “I wanted to make sure you’d agree. I didn’t want to shock you, or argue with you, or for you to disapprove.”

He was not sure what he expected from this conversation, beyond perhaps being told as a courtesy that they were going to Scotland to get married quickly, or that they’d done just that ten years ago. 

He knew that for much of her youth, Annabeth had not valued his opinion at all. She’d run away and lived on the streets for a time. This was very much his own fault. Her arrival had been unexpected and he hadn’t known exactly what to do with her. When he’d married, he’d hoped a mother would help, but it only made things worse. He’d left her in Mrs. Chase’s care too much, before they understood each other properly. 

He knew the only reason Annabeth had ever given him another chance was because of Percy Jackson. 

And now she valued his good opinion enough that she was willing to postpone her already delayed engagement. Despite her position in his household as an unwed daughter, he’d not thought he had that kind of influence over her. Annabeth had run off at seven, once. Natalie at twenty. There was no reason to think Annabeth wouldn’t do it again if she was unhappy with her situation. But she was happy enough to not want it to come to that. 

It was a kind of power he did not know he’d been given until this moment. He wasn’t sure if it pleased him, but he certainly did not want to let her down.

And that was the other worry. The idea that he would not approve of her choice in partner. The young man who’d brought her back into the family. A young man who’d risked his life for her repeatedly. A son of Poseidon. What father would pretend there was no prestige in that.

He’d have given his consent eleven years ago, if they’d asked, though not without some financial reservations. 

Now Captain Jackson was as good a prospect on paper as he’d always been in reality. 

Frederick told Annabeth as much. “I do not want you to think I’ve ever objected to him,” He said seriously, “nor doubted your judgement. But I dare say a decorated naval officer with a new worth of _one hundred and fifty thousand_ is a prospective husband few could question.”

“Particularly for a spinster,” Annabeth said. 

He frowned again. He’d never heard such talk from her, and had tried to censure it in his wife. “You would be a treasure at sixteen or sixty.” He told her, “And though I am loath to part with you, I must admit to being very happy for the extra years at home your delayed wedding has given us.”

“It's marriage,” Annabeth said, “Not death. I can still visit.” 

He had to laugh. He thought again of Natalie. Her blonde curls and lively spirit. Perhaps he had been thinking of Annabeth’s marriage the same as Natalie finding love with a god and leaving the country because she found no support among her hypocritical brothers. 

He thought of the Greek Myths he knew, Demeter and Persephone. He wondered if Annabeth had met one or both of them. But he also thought of the great threat of losing a daughter to marriage, if everyone was not happy with it. 

He would not see the same thing happen here. He would not lose Annabeth again. 

She was going to marry a deserving gentleman, and she was going to do it knowing her father cherished her.

There was a rapping on the door, and the footman entered: “Captain Jackson here to see you, Sir.”

Frederick smiled, and Annabeth looked momentarily mortified. 

“I thought you told him not to come today.” 

“No, I told him not to come and ask for my hand yet. I said he could make a social call and become properly acquainted.”

“Well,” Frederick smiled, “I certainly look forward to our long acquaintance, but I believe I will need several minutes alone before he can be admitted. So if you happen to run into him, please detain him for a few minutes, would you.”

Frederick smiled as he watched his daughter go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I needed one more chapter to wrap everything up. Should be posted by the end of the month!
> 
> Enjoy


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, it is done!

He was trying to recall who had advised him not to dance more than two sets with a lady who you were not engaged too. 

With a strange sort of jolt, he remembered his first summer at Camp. It was after the quest but before his birthday. They had a sort of mini ball. They always did at camp, held small balls and assemblies, part party and part practice.

Percy had learned to dance that evening, on the green between the cabins. Grover had to prompt him into asking several of the girls at camp to dance, and Luke had to remind him of his manners, the way to ask and interact with a young lady. 

He’d danced two sets with Annabeth and wanted to dance a third. She had seemed perfectly amiable to the idea. And then Luke had stepped in and told them that that wasn’t a thing done. Things might be less formal at camp, and they were very young, but in society, if you danced three sets with a lady, everyone would think you were engaged. 

During his youthful years, at those camp balls and assemblies, and at the very few occasions he’d had to dance with Annabeth elsewhere, he’d been skittish and nervous to dance more than a set with her. 

After the Titan War they hadn’t even danced with the rest of the camp. They’d been hiding at the bottom of the lake, _kissing_. Neither of them even cared about what it might do to her reputation. 

After the War with Gaia, when the Romans were still in town, they’d had the biggest, grandest ball he’d ever seen at Camp Half-Blood. 

He’d danced a lot that evening, with Greeks and romans and dryads galore. He’d danced two sets with Annabeth early in the evening on purpose, before Miranda and Leila and Juniper. And he’d watched a succession of Roman boys dance with Annabeth and figure out what to make of a daughter of Athena. 

Then he’d asked her for a third dance. 

When she agreed, Piper’s smirk had shined all the way across the dance floor. And Rachel’s had somehow been worse. 

They had agreed that night, though the details were still fuzzy, that they would get married as soon as they could afford it, one way or the other. 

He could afford it now. And her father had seemed more than willing to make the match. The marriage contract had been drawn up. His solicitor had been confused when Annabeth had been in the room for that discussion. And Mr. Chase had seemed confused when he had been very clear that all of Annabeth’s money was to remain in her sole use in addition to her pin money. Annabeth and Percy had both been surprised when Mr. Chase offered a further increase in her dowry. And even Annabeth seemed a bit surprised that Percy had wanted the majority of his money to be her’s outright in the event of his death. 

He’d wanted to drive off to Scotland that very night. Or perhaps whistle for Black-Jack. And he’d still prefer it to a Church of England wedding. Annabeth would too. But it would look too much like a desperate elopement in that case, and Annabeth deserved better than that. Plus, word had come from Magnus that her Uncle’s death could finally be recorded as such to Mortals. If they waited just a few more weeks, the paper would say that Percy Jackson had married the daughter of an Earl. Such things didn’t matter to him, but it would mean the world for his mother. And set Estelle up in particular standing, though she would not be out for several more years. 

So, her father knew and his mother, Mrs. Chase had fainted when told, and Estelle had jumped in joy. 

Among their camp friends' words had been shared. But general society did not yet know that Captain Percy Jackson and Miss Annabeth Chase were engaged to be married in just a few weeks' time. 

He called at the Chases nearly every day, and he’d taken a house in Gracechurch Street on her advice. She was still seeking them someplace out of town. 

And tonight, he approached her again. She was standing with Margaret McCaffrey, The Countess of Aeithales, with Matthew Chase, who’d taken quite a shine to the daughter of Demeter, and with Apollo, who was in his favorite guise as The Countess’s appointed guardian. Though he had appointed himself as such after Nero’s death. 

Percy had already danced two sets with Annabeth, then one with Rachel, Piper, and a very giddy seeming Aphrodite. He’d managed to avoid any of the very young ladies so far, but the night was still young, so he planned on making his intentions as plain as possible. 

“Miss Chase,” He tried, he always felt so false when he did this. He isn’t really meant to be a gentleman, whatever his mother had said. Annabeth was a hero, a demigod, his dearest friend in the world, the love of his life. But she was also a lady. He would brave sewers and Tartarus and manners for her. “May I have a dance.” 

“Yes,” She said, taking his hand. 

“That makes three,” Apollo said, his eyes glittering with excitement, and perhaps a little sunlight, despite the late hour. 

“I’m very glad you can count.” Percy said, because he’s never been good at not antagonizing gods, and also because he knows Apollo can take it. 

Meg just laughed at the god of poetry and music. Matthew, his mother’s son, and Percy’s heard a lot about Mrs. Chase and her commitment to property over the years, looked scandalized. 

Percy led his intended to the beginning of the dance, and just barely heard Meg begin to tell Apollo that she had heard about the engagement a week ago from Miranda and Kitty. 

Percy could feel all the eyes on them as they joined the couples for the next set. He’d been far too noticeable this whole season. He missed being a scrappy child, noticeable only to monsters. Riptide rested in his pocket, but it wasn’t useful against gossiping mothers or money hungry fathers. 

The dance started, and he could actually see other couples turning to look at them. Everyone was counting tonight, apparently. He didn’t bring it up to Annabeth, she had finely honed battle instincts and had surely noticed it already. 

As the dance began, he offered a different observation. 

“Your brother is still keeping the company of Meg, I see,” He offered.

“Yes, she’s uniquely positioned. And I won’t pretend I’m not encouraging the friendship.” 

“Why?”

“I feel certain that if I can get Matthew married to a Countess, Mrs. Chase will not have to direct so much of her attention at us.” Annabeth told him. 

“Do you want Meg McCaffrey as a sister?” 

“She’s a sweet girl.” Which would not be Percy’s words of choice to describe her, but he liked her very much as well. “And I think their temperaments would be suited. Plus, he liked gardens, and is not likely to try and suppress his wife. Which would be a very bad choice for him.”

“Have you mentioned her mother, at all?”

“Father knows, and I encouraged Meg to tell Matthew herself. I have not yet broken that news to Mrs. Chase. But I believe, like with your prize money, the estate at Aeithales will make breaking that news easier.”

“Does Mrs. Chase hate me that much?”

“Hate you, never. But she does question your judgement. I should be happy for anyone who will take me at this point. But why _YOU_ might want _me_ is anyone’s guess?”

“Other than your beauty, your intelligence, your family connections? Other than the fact that your father will be an Earl within literal weeks? Other than the twenty thousand fortune your father is offering?” Percy tried not to make too much of a face in public. “Did she really say that to you?” He’d only had positive experiences with Mrs. Chase, but he was always wary of her. Annabeth’s childhood stories always rested beside her. 

“No,” Annabeth said, “But she’s long been shocked by the kind of men who show interest in me and had figured my age was a rather decisive door on any truly great match. Your offer, even with what she knows of our history seems ridiculous to her. I keep getting tempted to tell her about Bobby’s new friend.”

Percy glanced to where Bobby Chase was talking to Miss Freya. She was a ridiculously beautiful woman. Nearly a rival to Annabeth, or to Aphrodite, who had the advantage of constantly changing. She practically glowed. Her blonde hair was as fairer as Annabeth’s and when he saw her up close, her eyes had been a striking sky blue. Her dress was what Rachel insisted was the latest fashion, and she was wearing as much gold jewelry as Hazel normally did. Also, Aphrodite, who was speaking to Piper and some man Percy didn’t know, kept glaring over at her.

“I don’t know of her,” Percy admitted, almost flustered to be looking at her, his heart calmed down when he looked at Annabeth again. She was the most beautiful creature in the world, and unlike Miss Freya or Aphrodite, it didn’t get painful or hard to look at her after a while. You didn’t become uncomfortable unless she turned her grey gaze on you and gave a smile that often went you were going to lose in whatever war game she was cooking up. “What’s the problem.”

“We, that is, my father and I, are of the opinion that she is the Norse Goddess of Beauty and Sorcery, Freya.” That was a horrible place to be separated by the dance. 

The young lady who replaced Annabeth looked at him with wide eyes, “You’ve danced three sets, with Miss Chase.” 

“Good to know the younger set are still learning counting,” He said. He wondered distantly if she’d be flattered that he teased her the same way he teased a god. Or if the god would be insulted.

“But, she’s a spinster.” 

“I do believe we are nearly the exact same age.” Percy kept his voice full of good humor. This girl was young, and she did not know any better. Though why a man his age would want a wife who did not know any better was very much beyond him. 

The girl was very bad at flirting, and when he returned to Annabeth, he could only feel bad for her. At sixteen he had to lead an army, fight a war, make a hard choice, but at least he hadn’t had to publicly beg for a husband who would then direct the rest of his life. 

Annabeth was in the middle of both.

It made him feel even worse for running off to sea. He was only half paying attention to her explaining that her father was terrified of the return of the Norse gods into his life. 

“And that was why he was so distracted on Wednesday?” Percy was well practiced in keeping track of Annabeth while his mind tried to wonder. Sometimes he lacked focus, but what else would he want to keep track of.

“Yes, I don’t know what bothered him most. That Uncle Randolph was dead, that Aunt Natalie was dead, that Magnus was in Valhalla, or that I’d known about it all, already,” Annabeth said, “It was after that night that he decided to tell me about his fears of Freya.”

“So, everything’s in the open, now?” Percy clarified. 

“Oh yes, he now knows I’m at least familiar with the Nordic Gods, and about Magnus. I now know he’s known about such things all along.” She sighed and shifted beneath his hands. Like she wanted to fall into his arms. 

“I want to kiss you,” He blurted out, instead of offering some great insight into the generations-long connection of the Chase family and the Viking Gods. 

Her smile was pleased, “I want to kiss you, too,” She admitted. She didn’t bother to tell him not to do such a thing. The whole goal was to avoid a scandal. “Tonight.” 

They got many magical, stolen hours alone. He called on her or she called on him nearly every day. And yet, it never seemed enough. He wanted her in his bed, for sleep and for other reasons. He wanted to wake up to her in the morning

They had so many years and so many miles to make up for. No brush of her lips anywhere on his body, or even the sharp intake of her breath while he was on his knees before her could make up for it. They had a lifetime together to look forward too, but in some ways that made the weeks before him worse. 

“I know,” Percy said, “Tonight.” They circled each other in dance, “And here and now, I can monopolize your time.” 

“You just want me to scare away all your would-be suitors.” Annabeth said. 

“Well, perhaps you can string a bow and shoot it through some arrows.” Percy said, “Make them back off.”

“Penelope chose that task because only Odysseus could do it. I would need to be something only I could do.” Annabeth reminded him. 

“Perhaps I’ll put an advertisement in the paper, then. I will marry a Lady who will journey to the Underworld with me to retrieve the lightning bolt of Zeus, who will help me sneak off and navigate the sea of monsters, who can hold the sky, who can lead me through the Labyrinth, who can lead an army against the Titans,” He didn’t mention her taking the knife meant for him. He was grateful for it, but her pale face haunted him still, “Rebuild Olympus, build a flying warship, follow the Mark of Athena and beat Arachne, fight through Tartarus, and then battle Gaia.” 

Annabeth was trying very hard to stay in the dance, and not just double over laughing at him. 

“Do you think all of that is worth one hundred and fifty thousand pounds?” He asked, and then regretted it. Annabeth hadn’t done any of that for a reward, beyond perhaps the affection her mother had denied her, and the glory that all Greek Heroes craved, just a bit. He was going to marry her because she was the single most remarkable woman, probably ever. And Percy knew a lot of remarkable women: His mother, Rachel, Hazel, Piper, Thalia, Clarisse, Reyna. The list went on and on. She hadn’t needed to prove herself, and her- their bad luck wasn’t something he wished on her as proof of her worth. 

“I wanted to marry you without a penny.” Annabeth said, sincerely. 

“I’m very glad you don’t have to,” Percy said, instead. 

It was so much, too much for when they were surrounded by people, by society. If they were at camp, he might have kissed her anyway, in full view of everyone. But even though no one could doubt their pending marriage now, Mrs. Chase seemed to be gossiping with every acquaintance she’d ever made about it, given the way people who spoke to her stared at them, he couldn’t go kissing her in public. And certainly not the way he wanted to kiss her. 

When the clasped hands again, it was like being struck by one of Eros’s arrows. And Percy could barely hold himself back. 

“I-” They both started at the same time. He cleared his throat and nodded at her to continue. He didn’t actually have anything to say, beyond maybe a repeated declaration of his undying love and devotion. 

“I spoke to Rachel, her school friend is going to be suggest a house for us in Briton,” She said, “For our holiday, after the wedding,” 

Percy smiled at the thought of it. Him, Annabeth, and the sea. What else could be better. 

“Mrs. Chase asked if we were going to take anyone with us, so I wouldn’t get bored.” 

“I bore you?”

As they circled each other in the dance, she stepped on the edge of his toe. Years at sea and years in battle kept him from falling over and tripping up the whole line of dancers. 

“I do not think my poor stepmother would like me to explain to her why bringing a friend along would be so impractical.” Annabeth said, her voice low. “Nor could I stand to have someone else around to distract me. I have plans for our time as husband and wife, Percy Jackson.” Miss Annabeth Chase has had the best plans for as long as Percy has known her. “No one else is allowed to interpret.”

“If we leave now, we could be in Gretna Green by tomorrow, when a black smith opens up.” 

She laughed, “Don’t tempt me.” Her eyes sparkled, and if he asked, genuinely asked, they’d run off right this very second. But Percy knew it wasn’t what was best for them, so he would resist this impulse. Even though he was pretty sure Piper could cover their escape, and Aphrodite could probably be persuaded to help by the romantic drama of it all.

“Not yet,” Percy said. 

“No,” Annabeth agreed, “Though it does appear we’ve attracted the attention of everyone here tonight.” She said it with her nose raised and her voice dismissive, but clearly it was bothering her. “The jealousy is already palpable.” 

“Well,” Percy said, “I won’t apologize. They should be jealous of me. I get to marry Annabeth Chase. Maybe they should have asked first.” 

She giggled. A light pink covered her cheeks. 

Again, he had to will himself not to do something impulsive and dangerous. Like declare her the most beautiful creature in the room. It was true. But with two love and beauty goddesses so close at hand, he couldn’t risk it. 

“I have had my ten-year journey and I am very happy I do not have to wait any longer to come home.” 

“Oh, and were you like Odysseus on your trip. Finding ports in the storm while I fought off ravenous suitors.”

He frowned at the thought, she couldn’t possibly believe “Annabeth I never-” 

“I was joking,” She said, “After all Calypso is married and you and Circe will never be able to resolve your differences.”

“Right,” He said, “yes, but, still, I need you to know that there is no other woman in the world for me.”

“I know what they say about sailors.” Annabeth’s voice was quiet. 

“Those men don’t have Annabeth Chase waiting for them at home. Or on their iris messages.” He said. He’d been deprived of her kisses and her warm skin, but he hadn’t really been deprived of her. It would not have changed his actions, but it meant he did not feel so adrift. 

“I love you.” she said. 

“I love you, too.” 

When the dance was over, he did not let her go, instead he found a secluded corner of the room for them to speak. 

The advantage of such intimate interaction was that it would not leave any doubt in anyone's minds about the spreading news of their engagement. 

“I do know you’ve had suitors crawling after you for ten years,” Percy said. “Odysseus was not fair in his treatment of Penelope, but you have to know to know I was aware of what I’d left behind, and know you had your offers. I know you waited for me.”

“Waiting for you might have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” Annabeth admitted, Percy knew what she had done, and had done so much of it beside her. He knew it was true. Being away from her was the same, “And I know it was easier than just the thought of being married to anyone else.” 

He reached out for her hand. She was wearing gloves; she wore gloves all the time. But he knew the feel of her fingers, knew the rough skin and the calluses. Utterly unbecoming of a lady, but that marked her as the greatest hero of the age. 

He squeezed her hand. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining her warmth through her glove or not, but she didn’t care either way. It was a reminder. She was here and solid and with him, not a mirage in a rainbow. They were together now, soon they would be unpartable. 

His mother had planned a wedding breakfast menu. Annabeth hadn’t mentioned it, but Piper had told him her opinion had been asked about Annabeth’s new dress. 

A Christian wedding wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it would be a useful excuse not to invite gods, not to worry about any of the strife that might haunt a hero's wedding. 

Only one thing weighed on his mind. 

“Do I need to buy a cow?”

“What?”

“A cow, so we can sacrifice it to Hera and not have our married be cursed.”

Annabeth made a face at the mention of the goddess. Or perhaps the sacrifice. As a general rule, they didn’t engage in animal sacrifice. They made their offerings, sure, but the actual killing these days was mostly left to the augurs. 

But desperate times…

“Maybe not a whole cow,” Annabeth considered, “She likes those, you never know how she’ll react.” Her eyes followed the turban of a woman across the room, decorated with a peacock feather, “But maybe a few chickens.” 

They both broke down laughing, just a little bit at that.

“We’ll ask Chiron,” Annabeth suggested, “or Apollo. Apollo will probably help. He might even have a suggestion for dealing with the fact that we probably cannot scream Hymenaios’s name in a church.”

The god in question was still talking to Matthew Chase and Meg.

“In fact,” Annabeth nodded to Percy’s arm, intent on being on it. “We should do that now. And perhaps give my brother and his countess a few minutes alone.” 

Percy offered his arm and smiled, “I like the new matchmaking side to you.” 

She swatted at his arm discreetly. 

“No, no, it's lovely. Is it a deal you worked out with Miss Mclean? Since she’s now to be the prettiest spinster in England, you’ll be the resident matchmaker?”

“Well, maybe I won’t,” Annabeth said, “Maybe I’ll let you take the full force of Mrs. Chase as your mother-in-law. All her nerves and worried about propriety, all her vague animosity towards anything Hellenistic. We shall see how you enjoy it.”

“She’ll be my mother-in-law because I’ll be married to you,” Percy said, “how could that be anything other than wonderful.”

“That was a very good answer, Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth offered. 

“All my time with a wise girl has clearly caught up with me.” He said. They were still making their way towards Matthew and Meg. Apollo was now standing physically between the two. “Let’s share the love. And perhaps see if we can get your step-mother to faint again.”

*** 

As printed in the Times and the Courier: 

_Captain Perseus Jackson of His Majesty's Royal Navy, son of the Late Mr. Dunn Jackson and Mrs. Paul Blofis has lately married Lady Annabeth Chase, daughter of Frederick Chase, the Right Honorable Earl of --. They married at her father’s parish in London on Tuesday morning._

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr](http://darkmagyk.tumblr.com/).


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